After the Cage
by November Glass
Summary: Ever since Sam got back from the cage (and subsequently got his soul back) Dean has noticed Sam... in the non-brotherly sense... Wincest. Rated for graphic depictions of sex and strong language.
1. Chapter 1

• **CHAPTER 1•**

 **Title:** "After the cage: Chapter 1"

 **Author:** November Glass

 **Fandom:** Supernatural

 **Description:** Ever since Sam got back from the cage (and subsequently got his soul back) Dean has _noticed_ Sam… in the non-brotherly sense…

 **Rating:** T (Chapter 1)

 **Warnings:** (For Chapter 1) Strong language, kind of incest..?

 **Spoilers:** Up to Season 6

 **Ships:** Dean/Sam

 **Disclaimer:** Obviously I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters, if I did… well let's just say that some great shit would be canon by now ;)

 **Author's Notes:** I'm still pretty new to writing fanfiction, so please, if you have any suggestions, let me know :)

ALSO IF YOU THINK I AM WORTHY OF WRITING FROM ONE OF YOUR PROMPTS, PM ME, I WILL WRITE FOR YOU :)))

《●》

Dean is drunk.

Of course he isn't dumb drunk, he isn't even sure he can get that drunk anymore. He knows he's a little drunk, though, because his vision is distorted, not quite right. His thoughts are slower than usual, as if swimming in thick molasses, and his speech is a bit slurred. He doesn't really care, though, because _damn_ does it feel good.

He needs this. He has needed it for a long time. He's usually very good at restraining himself when it comes to alcohol, enough so that he doesn't go out and do stupid shit. It was harder tonight, though, and Dean thinks it's probably because he's a little unnerved. For some reason he can't name, Dean's interest in the local waitress or barmaid (whomever that may be) is nearly non-existent.

Dean is basically the sex god. But he doesn't want sex - hasn't wanted it for a long time. At least not the kind he's used to.

He'd never say it out loud (as it is he can barely admit it to himself, and even then only when he's drunk), but ever since Sam came back from The Cage… well soulless Sam had been a big shock for Dean. It was seeing his brother that way that made Dean realize how much cares for Sam. That helped him to appreciate Sam even more when he finally got his soul back and was once again Dean's Sammy.

It didn't take long for Dean to put it together: he _loves_ Sam. Yes, he's Dean's brother, and yes, they've literally died for each other, which means that love is kind of a given, but it isn't like that. It isn't just brotherly love - it isn't what it probably should be. This recently awakened love is more passionate, hungry. It's more like… well the closest thing Dean can think of is how he felt for Lisa at one point, but this is still different.

Of course he still cares for Lisa and Ben, but even when Dean was with them his feelings for Lisa were more like… well, he's grateful to her for helping him, and she was kind and such, but the passion waned. When they first met, the sex, at least, was _very_ passionate, and even at the beginning of that year it was great, but the desire had declined and it became a chick-flick-ey, touchy-feely, sort of thing. She had become less of a romantic interest, and more of a friend… who he had sex with…

And then there was always that feeling of guilt. He always knew that his past would follow him (which was mostly why he took certain precautions when it came to protecting the house), and he felt guilty about dragging two innocent, charitable people into his mess of a life. But with Sam that guilt isn't there. Sam is just as fucked up as Dean is, and he can hold his own in a fight.

As for the touchy-feely situation, of course he feels for Sam. He's his brother, which means he cares for him. But more and more Dean is coming to realise that Sammy isn't so small anymore. On top of that, these feelings are fiery. He _wants_ Sam. Wants to feel him and kiss him and fuck him until Sam is nothing but a tangle of pleasure and " _Dean, Dean, oh god, Dean."_ He wants to protect him and care for him and tease him and taste him and _own_ him.

But he can't. He can't because it's wrong and Sam would never… well it's hopeless. So the best Dean can do is drink and kill things and take care of Sam in a brotherly sort of way, all the while dreaming of taking care of him in the non-brotherly way.

The motel room door opens and Sam walks in, returning from the local library.

"You look like shit."

"Gee, thanks," Dean mumbles, unable to resist looking Sam up and down, admiring the view. Sam doesn't notice. Of course.

"So I think we're dealing with a Zoroastrian god called Aka Manah. His name literally means 'bad thought' or 'bad intention.' He… Dean? Dean are you listening to me?"

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah," Dean says distractedly, even though he had been picturing those beautiful lips around his cock…

"Dude." Dean is suddenly torn from his daydreams. "Are you drunk?"

"I just had a couple beers," Dean slurred. But perhaps he'd had one too many, the alcohol was really getting to him now.

"Clearly you've had more than usual," Sam says, walking over to where Dean sat on his bed (This motel offered doubles, which was nice considering that they usually got twin mattresses). "You should probably sleep it off, then we can kill this thing tomorrow and move on to that job I found in Arizona." Sam starts to loosen the laces on Dean's boots, knowing that his brother is too drunk to do it on his own.

"Sammy?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Dean doesn't know why he said it, probably because that's what he'd been thinking about… that and the alcohol has clearly dulled his verbal filter. For a moment, all he can think is ' _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit'._

Sam pauses, then looks up at him, concern in his eyes. Then he puts the back of his hand on Dean's forehead. For a moment Dean doesn't know what's going on, his thoughts are going so slow. Then it dawns on him, ' _Is the son of a bitch checking for a fucking fever?'_

Feeling no fever, Sam pushes Dean down by his shoulder so he's laying down. Then he chuckles, turning his attention back to Dean's shoes. "You really are drunk."

Dean can't stop himself. He sits up. "Yes, Sam, I am drunk. But that doesn't make it any less true."

Sam looks at Dean again, having pulled both shoes off. "Uh… I… love you too then, I guess." His expression is unreadable. Dean doesn't know how it happened, it was all a blur, but suddenly his mouth is pressed against Sam's, his hands holding his brother's face. Dean realises what he's doing and pulls away.

"Sammy… Sammy I'm sorry." Sam just stares at him, still trying to process what just happened. "Sam I don't know wha-" Sam gets up and walks out the door.

《●》

Thanks for reading! Please share any comments/suggestions you might have for me!


	2. Chapter 2

• **CHAPTER 2•**

 **Title:** "After the cage: Chapter 2"

 **Author:** November Glass

 **Fandom:** Supernatural

 **Description:** Ever since Sam got back from the cage (and subsequently got his soul back) Dean has _noticed_ Sam… in the non-brotherly sense…

 **Rating:** MA (Chapter 2)

 **Warnings:** Incest (brother on brother), sex (kinda implied by "incest," but still), strong language

 **Spoilers:** Up to Season 6

 **Ships:** Dean/Sam (Wincest)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own spn or any of the characters, etc.

 **Author's Notes:** I know that a few of you were anxious to receive Chapter 2 after reading Chapter 1, and I apologise for the wait. I guess I got so excited about the first chapter that I posted it before chapter 2 was done! And then I got really busy with school… so sorry again! Prompts are welcome! I'm still pretty new to writing fanfiction, and this is my first time writing smut (or slash...? Whatever, same thing), so feedback is much appreciated :) Enjoy!

《●》

Dean just sits there, staring at the door. ' _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what did I just do? What the fuck is wrong with me?'_ Dean's mind is now going a million miles per hour, despite all that alcohol. ' _Shit. Now Sammy's gone and he'll probably never come back. I'm such a fucking idiot.'_ Dean groans, laying back on the bed.

And then he cries. Dean doesn't cry often, not crying was one of the first things he learned from his father following his mother's death, but now sobs rack his body. He made one stupid choice and now Sam is gone, too. He just _lost_ Sam. But it hurts more than it ever did, somehow. Because now Sam has _chosen_ to leave because Dean is such a goddamn _idiot._ Dean is filled with self loathing, panic, pain, misery, shame, and basically every bad thing he's ever felt, all in one moment.

Dean cries himself to sleep.

•••

When Dean wakes a few hours later Sam is still gone. Of course. He doesn't know why he ever even dared to hope that Sam would be there when he woke up. Dean groans, turning over to look at the alarm clock resting on the bedside table.

 **10:43 AM**

He slept in. Dean _never_ sleeps in. Years and years on the road has drilled certain habits into him, and waking up early is one of those habits. Dean gets up, trying not to think about last night as he strips and turns on a hot shower.

A few minutes later, Dean is clean and mostly dry. He's just finished putting his pants on and is reaching for his shirt (his second, since he has a habit of wearing two or even three), when the door is forcibly opened. Dean grabs his gun and in an instant is aimed and ready to shoot at the intruder, adrenaline already rushing through his veins.

"Sammy?"

Dean slowly uncocks and lowers his gun, bewildered. Sam is standing in the doorway, a wild look in his eyes that Dean recognises as… lust? No, that can't be right… anger? Maybe it's- That particular train of thought is cut short when Sam steps into the room, closes the door behind him (rather loudly), then crosses to stand before his brother. He grabs the gun Dean is still holding, tossing it to the desk behind him.

In an instant, Sam takes the front of Dean's shirt in a fist, putting a hand on the back of Dean's neck and pulling him forward. Their faces are inches apart now, and Dean's eyes widen as he looks into his brother's eyes; What he sees there… it's fire.

"You have _no idea_ how fucking long," Sam's voice is a low growl and he chokes on his passion. He pauses for a moment, taking deep breaths as if that fire is burning is too strong, burning his lungs. "How long I've- _Jesus_." Instead of finishing the sentence he kisses Dean.

He _kisses_ Dean.

For a moment Dean is just too shocked to react, but then he kisses Sam back, pulling his brother closer. Sam backs Dean to the closest bed, brushing Dean's shirt to the floor as he presses his brother to the mattress.

The kiss becomes heated, urgent, and Dean can feel Sam's hands under his shirt, his tongue probing at his mouth, silently asking for access. Dean complies, opening his mouth while reaching a hand under Sammy's shirt, pulling it upward. Sam breaks the kiss momentarily, pulling his shirt over his head. They're both panting now, just sort of staring at each other. But this is too slow. Dean needs _more._ He needs Sam, all of Sam, and he needs him _now._

Dean puts a hand on Sam's shoulder, pushing him over so that Dean can straddle his brother. Neither can suppress a groan as their erections (Dean doesn't know when he'd gotten hard) are pressed together, and Dean can feel the blood rushing to his member, making him harder still. Dean pulls his shirt off and throws it to the floor in one swift motion, wasting no time in kissing Sam again, this time even more fiercely. Sam returns his kiss, holding Dean close and biting his bottom lip a little while Dean impatiently unbuckles Sam's belt.

He lifts himself off of Sam for a moment, pulling his pants off and then doing the same to his own. He hesitates, then, slowly, he pulls his boxers down, too, kicking them aside. All Sam can do is stare at his brother, taking in the sight. ' _Dean is fucking gorgeous,'_ is all Sam can think.

Dean crawls atop Sam again, kissing his neck this time. Dean works his way down Sam's body, kissing his chest, and he takes a nipple, rolling it between two fingers, and Sam makes a noise that goes straight to Dean's prick. It's such a needy little noise and Dean _needs_ to hear it again, so this time he takes the hardened nub lightly between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue. Sam moans, a hand going to Dean's head, pulling his hair a little.

Dean smiles to himself, then continues downward, giving Sam's navel a little lick before yanking his boxers down. And _God,_ but Sam is hard. His impressive length is dripping precum already, and Dean can't wait to taste it. Dean holds Sam down by the hips, making eye contact with his brother as if to say, "You're sure?" The look that Dean receives from Sam tells him that he's more than sure.

"Dean…" Sam nearly chokes on his own desire. "Dean _please."_

And that's all Dean needs. He runs his tongue along the underside of Sam's cock, starting at the base, and Sam's grip on his brother's hair tightens as he lets out a moan that makes Dean's dick throb. He swirls his tongue around the head, then presses it flat against the slit. Sam involuntarily bucks his hips, and Dean (not-so-accidently) takes as much of Sam into his mouth as he can, which isn't all of it, but Sam still can't help but gasp a little. Dean slides the thick member into his mouth more and more, until Sam is balls deep. He begins to bob his head up and down, but Sam soon takes over, pulling on Dean's hair harder still, and thrusting into his mouth with little groans of pleasure and the occasional murmur that sounds something like "Fuck, fuck yes."

Dean begins to hum, and if it's possible to smirk around a mouth full of cock, he does. Sam's thrusts become more staggered, less controlled, and Dean prepares himself for his brother's orgasm, but instead Sam yanks his mouth off his dick. Dean looks at him, a little disappointed.

"Dean… fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me."

"Anything for you, Sammy," and now Dean does smirk, the uneven, sexy smirk that drives Sam wild. Sam releases his hair and Dean grabs his brother's hips, rotating him so he's resting on his elbows and knees. Dean doesn't waste any time; he coats two fingers in saliva, circling Sam's hole with them, and Sam instinctively jerks away.

"Relax Sammy," Dean says, running his other hand up Sam's spine. Once he feels Sam do just that, he presses a finger to his entrance, pushing it in. Sam moans a little, and encouraged, Dean adds another finger, thrusting a little. Sam takes both greedily, pushing back on Dean's fingers to try and take more of them in. Dean spreads his fingers a little, moving them as if mimicking scissors so he can better stretch his brother before adding yet another.

" _Dean please_." Dean hesitates. ' _Well he seems pretty damn sure, and God knows I want to fuck him, so…'_ Dean can picture what's about to happen, and his prick gives an anticipatory throb. He uses the precum dripping from his own cock and yet more saliva to wet his member, and lines himself up with Sam's ass. He pushes in slowly, trying to give Sam time to adjust. He's squirming beneath him, gasping for air. With all of that hot wetness surrounding him, it's torture, but Dean stops, not wanting to hurt Sam.

" _Jesus_ , Dean!" Sam says, pushing himself against Dean until he's up to the hilt. He continues with a moan of mingled pleasure and pain, "Don't you _fucking dare_ stop now."

Dean's hold on Sam's hips tightens, and he pulls away almost completely, only to thrust back into Sam, who emits a rather embarrassing moan. Dean's senses are overwhelmed, and he throws his head back in a silent scream. Sam is so fucking _tight_. Dean thrusts again, this time desperate, needy. He _needs_ to be deeper. He thrusts again and again, losing himself in the slick passage inside of his brother.

"Fuck, Sam, you're so tight," Dean is babbling "Oh God, Sammy."

Sam grips at the sheets, his back arching at an almost impossible angle. "Harder Dean, _harder."_ Dean's thrusts become somehow even deeper, rougher, and he gets just the right angle to hit Sam's prostate. Sam moans, and Dean can feel himself getting steadily closer to his orgasm. Dean leans over Sam, pulling him up against his chest with one hand, while the other reaches around to take hold of Sam's dick. He pushes his thumb against the slit at first, and when he feels Sam start to tremble slightly, he begins to pump his dick in time with each thrust.

"Dean… Dean I'm so- so close," Sam is a mess now, sweaty and desperate and Dean is sure there's going to be permanent damage to those sheets. But the thought is a fleeting one; Dean can feel his climax growing nearer with each thrust. He hits Sam's prostate again and again, and he can't stop himself from moaning, "Sammy, Sammy… _fuck_ , Sam!"

"Dean, Dean I'm- I'm gonna come," Sam turns to look at Dean over his shoulder, and he barely finishes before he comes, shaking, saying Dean's name again. Seeing Sam like that: sweaty and completely out of control, his eyes burning with pleasure, _that's_ what pushes Dean over the edge. He closes his eyes, keeping that image in his mind. He rides out his orgasm with a couple more thrusts, the sound of his own voice saying "Sammy, Sammy, oh god Sammy," barely reaching his ears.

Dean pulls out and collapses next to Sam and his brain vaguely acknowledges that they're both sweaty and sticky from the cum, but Dean can't bring himself to care. They're both panting, and Sam turns to look at Dean, clearing his throat a little awkwardly. "Uhm… well…"

Dean silences him with a kiss, then pulls away, saying, "Yeah, we're gonna do that again."

《●》

 **Closing Author's Note:** Wow! I don't think I realised how much time and effort goes into writing these things till I started working on this. I definitely better appreciate the work of my fellow writers now.

 _Please_ give me any comments/suggestions you have! Prompts are always welcome, there's no such thing as too naughty ;)


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